The door opened and a couple of men strode in and up to the bar.
“What can I get you?” Ryder asked them.
“Two beers.” The one who sat next to Trina said. “Hey Trina, what’s up?”
She turned to talk to him. With both Ryder and Trina otherwise engaged, I stepped closer to Sinclair.
“Want to get a booth?”
She stared at me with suspicion.
It made me miss the days when she’d look at me like I was a superhero. Or with desire in her eyes. Now she just seemed wary of me. I wondered if there was something I’d done since coming back that merited her distrust or if it was just residual from when I left town ten years ago.
Perhaps she was afraid I was going to hit on her. But my ego couldn’t take much more rejection, so I said, “I just retained a lawyer. You don’t have to worry about marrying me. I just want to catch up.”
She stiffened. “You have a way of turning things around that make me the bad guy.”
She was right. I didn’t mean to, and at the same time, I couldn’t help how I was feeling.
“Come have a drink with me and I’ll apologize.”
She pursed her lips, but slid off the stool and went over to an empty booth. I sat across from her even though I wanted to slide up right next to her and pull her hair down to see if it was as long as it had been ten years ago.
“You don’t really think the getting married idea would work, do you?” she asked.
“Actually, I think it could. My lawyer is going to try and work around the marriage thing, but even she said my being single could be a problem.”
“She?”
“Jeannette Schmidt.” I saw a flash of heat in Sinclair’s eyes at the name. She knew I’d once dated her.
She pursed her lips in distaste. “Too bad you can’t marry her.”
“Too bad,” I agreed, only because I got the feeling Sinclair was jealous.
“Do you suppose she’d be willing to give up her hopes, dreams, job, husband and kids to be with you? You ask a lot of the women in your life.”
She’d effectively pushed me back. I looked down at my drink to figure out what to say next. Then I looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry I was an asshole. Selfish asshole.” I clarified.
“Yes, you were. Are. You get away with it because of all that.” She made circles with her finger pointed at me.
“All what?” I wanted to reach out and take her hand. Maybe suck on that finger.
She smirked. “Don’t play coy, Wyatt. You know what you do to women.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t care what I do to women. What do I do to you, Sinclair?” That was probably the wrong response and I thought it would send her running back to the bar.
She shook her head, but I saw a slight upward twitch of her lips. “Asking me to marry you in a marriage of convenience is asking a lot.”
I wanted to tell her there was nothing convenient about this idea. “This marriage idea is another selfish asshole thing. But I don’t know that I can do this without your help, short of starting a riot of angry farmers with pitchforks running Stark out of town.”
Sinclair lau
ghed, and it was so fucking lovely my heart ached. She finished her drink. “I’ll need more liquid courage to be convinced.”
Huh? My brain hiccupped. Was she changing her mind?
I held up my finger. “Hold that thought.” I stood and went to the bar, and reaching behind it, I grabbed the whiskey with a nod to Ryder.